


The House That Jack

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, rated teen for thematic elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 15:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "Homeless or neglected!Jack having to mostly take care of himself. Basically like in canon but human AU or if not human then mortal AU. Other Guardians still around please? :)+5 He has siblings to take care of and other responsibilities."This is neglect rather than homelessness, I guess. Jack lives with his sister in the house of their grandmother, their legal guardian. And he just has to keep them looking completely normal until he turns eighteen.





	The House That Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 2/25/2015.

He doesn’t enjoy being invisible, but until he turns eighteen, it’s absolutely necessary. Or at least it’s absolutely necessary by now.   
  
He doesn’t look around too much as he waits in line at the grocery store, because why would an ordinary teenage boy need to? He is doing something normal. He is buying groceries and picking up prescriptions for his housebound grandmother. His housebound grandmother who is the guardian of him and his eleven-year-old sister.  
  
He is a nice, normal boy. No one should be looking at him. Khakis. Blue t-shirt. Not too skinny, or not noticeably so. Brown hair. There’s a line where the brown hair dye that covered the beautiful icy white doesn’t match his natural color, but teenage boys also have bad hair.  
  
He pays with cash. Invisible.  
  
***  
  
“Emma? I’m home!” The door creaks when he opens it. If he wants it repaired, he’ll have to figure out how to do it himself. No one can come to their house anymore.  
  
“I got invited to a sleepover this weekend,” she says quietly when she joins him in the kitchen. Despite the cooling evening, she opens the window a crack as she watches Jack unpack the groceries. She won’t stay long in any room in the house if she can’t open a window.  
  
 _Close it,_  Jack wants to say.  _It’s cold, and you know there’s no…the lime will have…It’s been long enough…I made sure…_  “You want to go?”  
  
She nods. “It’s at Pippa’s.”  
  
Jack puts away a few cans of chili. “She lives close, doesn’t she? You can ride your bike there. I’ve got to work.”  
  
Emma shakes her head. “She lives out on the county road. Her mom…her mom was going to give rides to anyone who needed them.”  
  
Jack doesn’t remember meeting Pippa’s mom. That means she’s probably never been to their house before. That means she would probably want to meet their grandmother. “I’ll give you a ride.”  
  
“But your work?”   
  
“It’s not…missing one day won’t matter. We’re fine, Emma, remember? And we will be fine.” He smiled. “Just remember to never pick truth when you play truth or dare.”  
  
***  
  
Jack takes the new prescriptions to the ground floor bathroom and removes the old ones, still full, from the medicine cabinet. He opens the new ones and puts the old ones, rattling, into the plastic pouch from the pharmacy.  
  
 _“Emma. Emma. Listen to me. We’re going to be fine. Grandma bought this house outright. Everyone’s used to me doing her errands.”  
  
“B-but she needs to have a funeral! She needs to be buried! We need to call…”_  
  
There’s no lock on the basement door, because there wasn’t one before. Locks on basement doors weren’t invisible, and it still mattered, because what if someone other than Jack or Emma did have to get into the house someday?  
  
No lock meant that Jack could throw the old prescriptions down there quickly, even if the padding he had put around the edges of the door made it stick.  
  
 _“Emma, there’s no one to call. There’s only Grandpa Moon, and if we have a funeral, then he’s going to know where we are and that’s where they’re going to send us.”_  
  
“We don’t know anything about Grandpa Moon other than what Grandma told us!”  
  
“And what if she was telling the truth? Do you remember when you were little? How we moved so much?”  
  
“Jack, this is…I don’t know. Freaky. I’m scared.”  
  
“We just need to make it till I’m eighteen. You can do that, can’t you? We just have to be normal till then. I’ve got a plan.”  
  
He took the several newspapers he had gotten at the grocery store into the room with the bed next to the bathroom. He placed them neatly on the ever-growing piles. They weren’t growing fast enough. He would need to get more junk mail somehow. Wrapping paper for the world’s worst eighteenth birthday present, bought with invisible cash.  
  
Like the birthday candles. Like the fire extinguisher in the basement that even a frail old woman might try to reach to save her grandchildren. Like all the paint and other things that someone might have had a problem with hoarding, just like the newspapers. Things that would make a fire burn hot and fast.  
  
There could be a funeral then. When Jack could take care of Emma. 

**Author's Note:**

> Notes and Comments from Tumblr:
> 
> My Note: Their grandmother died of natural causes, just to be clear.
> 
> marypsue reblogged this from gretchensinister and added:  
> You do subtle realisation so well, and it suits this fic so, so perfectly.
> 
> bowlingforgerbils said: Dammmmnnnn. That was fantastic.


End file.
